


I can't believe this is the only Bonanza / Supernatural crossover here

by murilegus



Category: Bonanza, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen, I mean it will be implied but like no onscreen monsters or angels or anything, More characters to be added, Time Travel, set in the wild west, spoilers for supernatural up to 13x05, will not technically be AU for bonanza
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2018-12-03 08:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11528541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murilegus/pseuds/murilegus
Summary: Little Joe finds a stranger in the middle of nowhere. In proper Cartwright fashion he brings him back to the Ponderosa. Dean, the stranger, just tries to survive the Wild West and get home. If only he could remember how he ended up there!Please observe that the first and second chapters had a couple of minor updates, to better place Dean into a specific season.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WIP. This will be more chapters but where has the chapter option disappeared... hmmm...  
> Can be read without actually knowing either tv series. Set when Little Joe was 18, Dean does a random jump in time during season 13, because my muses demanded I rip up my entire plan and start anew. They were very unhappy with my lack of a more precise timeline.
> 
> Spoilers up until season 13, episode five!

Normally, it was Hoss who brought home strays to the Ponderosa. This time, however, Little Joe was fairly certain he would be the one to have the questionable honor of doing it.

The cabin, the supposedly empty cabin, where he had planned to stay for the night on his way back home, was very much Not. Empty, that is.

Though, how the man occupying its single cot had gotten there remained a mystery, as there were no sings of a horse, and the man himself was clearly in no shape to have been walking to this rather remote place in the wilderness. A hand on his brow had confirmed the fever, which had painted his face and clothes with cold sweat.

Little Joe used some choice words that he was glad his Pa wasn't around to hear.

"Guess I'm gonna miss Mary-Anne's birthday party after all. But I can't just leave you here, now can I?" he muttered to the unconscious man, who didn't answer back, unless you call more sweating an answer.

Having seen his fair share of illness in his days, Little Joe took upon himself the rather tedious work of checking the man over for any infected wounds that may have caused the fever. But other than a myriad of old, healed over wounds that had left some rather weird looking scars, the guy seemed to be whole and healthy. Well, apart from the fever, of course.

"Right, well. I'm gonna fetch some water. Try'na get that fever of yours down. You just stay there, mister", Little Joe said, a bit awkwardly, to the unhearing occupant of the cot. As if the man could go anywhere when he wasn't even awake!

A short trip to the nearby brook later, the mysterious man was outfitted with a wet cloth over his brow, and several somewhat successful attempts from his caregiver to get some water inside him as well.  
Thankfully, Little Joe was equipped for actual outdoor sleeping, so he simply found the least uncomfortable and drafty place on the floor when he finished up a brief evening meal, and fell asleep almost right on the spot once he lay down on his bedroll.

A loud crash woke him up the following morning.

"Ah, shit, sorry. Didn't mean to wake ya. I was just gonna get some water..." a deep, out of breath voice said.

Dragging a hand over his face, Little Joe blinked at the light from the morning sun, and took in the fallen jug of water and the clearly still feverish man sitting up in the bed, one arm leaning against the small table where the water had been before it decided to function as a wake up call for a poor, tired, law abiding citizen. The last part, Little Joe said in his head with a voice attempting to imitate his oldest brother.  
He thought he had it down to a T.

Adam would have disagreed rather vehemently. Hoss would just have laughed.

Suddenly missing his older bothers, who would probably have known exactly how to take care of the whole situation, Little Joe got up to help the man pick up the jug, add some water into it, and drink without dropping it. He spotted the cloth next to the pillow, and put it on the table.

"Ahh, that's good. Sorry kiddo, I feel as if I'd been on a real bad trip, you know. Hands still a bit shaky," the man said, after laying back down and closing his eyes.

"I'm not a kid!" Little Joe bristled. "I'm almost nineteen!"

One eye peered open at him. "Sorry. Man."

It sounded suspiciously like Adam when he was humoring his youngest brother.

Deciding to be the greater man (he WAS a man, not a kid! ) Little Joe let the subject drop.

"How're ya feeling, mister? You look like you were caught in a stampede and then fell into a lake."

A lope-sided grin and two eyes that remained close accompanied his answer: "Add being run over by a car to that and you have it."

Frowning a bit at the possibly delirious ramblings, Little Joe dipped the now mostly dry cloth back into the water before putting it on the brow of the stranger.

"I'm heading out for a bit, shout if you need me," he said, picking up the bucket to refill it in the brook.

No answer, the man had fallen asleep again, it seemed.

"Didn't even get his name" Little Joe mused to Coochise when he walked past his loyal companion. "He better get better soon, or else Pa and the others are gonna have kittens when I'm late!"


	2. Guess we're not in Kansas anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got such wonderful comments and Kudos! Thank you!!! Here's the next chapter! :D Hope you like it!

The mysterious stranger was still asleep when Little Joe had finished up outside. But the fever seemed to have gone down, he thought, and reached out to feel the man's brow to confirm it. This turned out to be a mistake, however.

"Oww! Let go of my arm!!!"

The stranger, who had grabbed Joe's arm when it touched his face, blearily blinked awake.

"Ugh, sorry, reflexes," he said, and let go. "Didn't mean to hurt you, kiddo. You just startled me, a little."

Cradling his arm, Little Joe suddenly understood exactly what his brothers complained about regarding his own smiles, when he was met with one probably just like those, that simply completely disarmed the receiver and made them utterly unable to stay angry. Despite being half asleep, the man fired off a smile that even Miss Abigail Jones would have been unable to resist.

Little Joe quickly shook off any thoughts of his former teacher, and stuck out his right hand instead.

"It's Joe. Little Joe Cartwright. Not 'kiddo'," he said. Pa would have been proud to see his good manners. Why anyone would accuse him of a fiery temper was a mystery worthy of a Pinkerton detective!

"Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you, 'not-kiddo'," the man grinned, shaking his hand with a strong grip.

"Any relation to the Winchesters, Mr. Winchester?" Little Joe asked, almost jumping in place with excitement over the prospect, ignoring the good natured teasing.

"Just Dean, please. And, uhmm... depends, which Winchesters are you talking about? If you wonder about the gun makers, then, no, sorry to disappoint."

"What other Winchesters could I possibly think about?" Little Joe asked, deflated.

"Well, you'd be surprised," the man, Dean, said with a lopsided grin.

Stretching a bit, and looking around the cottage, he then sighed:  
"I guess there's no chance you've hidden an indoors bathroom in a corner somewhere?"

Little Joe laughed. "Sure! And it has a real proper seat made of gold and sparkly jools!"

"I guessed as much," Dean groaned.

\---

Some misadventures later - the man only fell over twice, which was a wonder considering he was almost as tall as Hoss, and his improvised crutch (Little Joe) could not be called tall no matter how many times he had measured his height and cursed the absence of the promised growth spurt - the man was back inside and propped up against the wall on top of the bed.

Little Joe occupied the sole chair in the cabin, and was frowning deeply at the situation they were now in.

"How bad is it? How far from society are we?" Dean asked.

"No more than a full days ride. But that's one healthy man, with one well rested horse. Not two men for one horse, with one of them getting winded just by walking a few steps."

"You can't call anyone for help? I can pay you back for your troubles once I get hold of my brother." Dean suggested.

"The nearest house is the Ponderosa, and that's where we're going, so no, I can't call for help. No one would hear us out here." Joe explained with a sigh.

"Ugh, mountains, dude, they suck. No signal anywhere, am I right?" Dean groaned and flung an arm over his face. "Why'd I have to get stranded in the middle of nowhere..."

"You speak really strange, ya know?" Little Joe said with an even deeper frown. "Where are you from?"

"A bit all over the place really. Been moving around ever since I was a kid. Grew up on the road, basically." Dean explained. He looked both tired and fond of the topic.

"My Pa moved here when my oldest brother Adam was a kid. My middle brother, Hoss, was born on the road here. His Ma died before they got here. I never knew her."

"I had a brother named Adam, too. Never really got to know him either, though. He died almost before we had time to meet." Dean looked down and placed his hands in his lap. "Lost my mom too."

He looked as if saying it out loud was both really hard and a bit of a relief. Little Joe figured he hadn't talked about it a lot. Hoss said you shouldn't hold in stuff like that, it just made it feel more sad. They had talked about Little Joe's mother quite a bit over the years, and wouldn't you know, it usually did feel better after saying that stuff out loud, even if it often felt plain awful to say it in the first place.

"And... and Cas... but..." Dean looked confused. "I lost Cas but I'm not sad about it? How... Oh! He came back. Kiddo! Cas is alive!"

The man looked as if he had won a thousand dollars in a horse race. Not that Little Joe knew anything about betting on horses. That Pa knew of at least. Little Joe hoped it would stay that way, too. Losing his money was bad enough, without involving his father and his disappointed frowns into the mix. At least Hoss and Adam had lost their money, too. Maybe if they got their own race horse...? Oh, but more on point.

"Who is Cas?" See, he was totally an att-en-ti-ve listener. Take that, Adam!

"Cas is a weird, dorky little guy, and my very much alive best friend," the man beamed, even as he leaned back and closed his eyes. He must have been exhausted from the fever, still.

"But enough about my family. Where exactly are we? What's the nearest town?"

"You were really out of it, weren't you, sir ...Dean", Little Joe corrected after a half-hearted glare from the man in question at the "sir".

"Have no idea how I even ended up here. Wherever 'here' is."

"Well, the nearest towns are Carson city and Virginia City. Lake Tahoe is that way, and Ponderosa, where we're heading, is bordering to it's shore" Little Joe gestured.

"Lake Tahoe.... I think I've driven past here before... It's near Reno, on the way to Sacramento, right?" Dean mused.

"Maybe you weren't all that out of it after all, Mr. Dean," Little Joe laughed.

"Call me any variation of Sir or Mister again and you stay 'kiddo' for the rest of the road, dude. Especially 'Mr. Dean', that just sounds like 'Mr. Bean'," Dean smirked.

He was definitely a big brother. Only big brothers could be so annoying, Little Joe figured, as he mentally removed any kind of title from Dean's name. Pa'd have his hide if he overheard them. He was always all for being 'respectful of your elders', as he put it.

"So, what's the plan then?"

"I guess it's best to stay here for a bit, until we've eaten, and head out after that. You're gonna have to ride Coochise while I walk. No offense but you're almost as big as my big brother Hoss, and my horse simply won't be able to carry the two of us the whole way. We're probably gonna have to set up camp outdoors, and do the rest of the trip tomorrow."

"Horse riding. Great. Awesome." Dean sounded anything but happy about it.

"Think you can manage to stay on the horse? Or do you still feel faint?" Little Joe asked with a concerned voice. If Dean was not up for it, they would have to wait for another while before trying - risking a fall of a horse was no laughing matter if you were ill.

"No worries. Just a bit tired. I've had worse. I'll be fine after a bit to eat and some more sleep," Dean reassured, in that typical way big brothers always do when they are pretending things are not as bad as they really are. And still they complained about Little Joe whenever he stretched the truth a bit said he was 'fine'. Hypocrites! (Adam had clearly been rubbing off on his vocabulary, Joe noted with an absent minded smile).

Guess there was no choice but to try, and see how it'd go. Oh how he wished Adam was there, no matter how many big words he would throw around himself! What if he was doing the wrong thing in letting the stranger up on his horse? What if?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited the previous chapters a bit, adding a couple of lines in the second one. Nothing that really impacts on the plot a big deal, but it may make the beginning of this chapter less confusing if you re-read at least chapter 2. (and considering how long it took for me to get this chapter out, you might need to refresh your memory of this fic anyway, lol)  
> hope you like it! Can't thank you all enough for your patience with these slow coming chapters!

When Dean woke up the next time, he felt a lot better than before.

He still couldn’t remember how exactly he had ended up where he was, but the memory of Cas being alive, and well enough to make new questionable choices with his wardrobe, cheered him up quite a bit.

The kid was standing next to the bed with a wary look on his face. He seemed to have picked up on the fact that waking an old hunter unexpectedly while staying within his reach was a bad idea. Dean gave him a small wave, and tried to sit up. A success, in all, even if he was still dead tired, and had to lean against the wall a bit.

He opened his eyes again (when did he shut them?) and turned to look at the kid, who was still standing there, and frowning worse than Sam when he discovered a shirt had been ironed with beer. Little brother had no sense of humor whatsoever.

“Are you sure you can ride after we eat?” the boy said.

“Don’t worry… uhh, what was your name again? Michael? Charles…No wait, Jonathan..?”

“J-O-E. Little Joe. Short for Joseph. And you’re kinda proving my point, sir,” came the frustrated answer.

Dean waved him off. “I’ve had worse. And I can just sit and snooze on the horse, right. My brain’s just a bit slow to start. Like opening Internet Explorer. I’m gonna be fine, soon as I get some grub.”

“Are you still fevery? You aren’t making any sense,” the boy, Joe, said, and felt his forehead.

“I’m Fine. Just need something to eat,” Dean reassured him.

The food was depressingly sparse, and consisted mostly of jerky. Little Joe had looked a bit embarrassed and mumbled that he’d had to ration it a lot more than planned, with two people eating and added travel time. But Dean, honestly, was more concerned with getting hold of a phone ASAP: small food rations were nothing new, even if he had lately been rather well off on that front. And to get there, he’d have to confront the hay-eater outside.

The hay-eater in question turned out to be a huge spotted beast.

“It’s a pinto! Not a dog! Sorry Coochise, you ain’t no spotted anything!” Little Joe exclaimed in return, whilst giving the sub-grade transportation an apologetic rub on the nose.

Dean pinched his own nose between the eyes and convinced himself this was at least better than flying. And, hey, if he could stay on a mechanical bull, this should be a piece of cake, right? 

“I miss you, Baby!” he muttered, thinking about his beloved car, before grabbing hold of the saddle and trying to get up. And who knew it, his fence climbing days may be history, but apparently horses weren’t that bad. Now, if the ground would just stop spinning this would actually work out fine!

Little Joe took exactly one look at the man and decided to walk within a reaching distance in case he’d fall down again. Dadburn it, like Hoss would say. This was a recipe for disaster!


	4. I'm a poor (not) lonesome cowboy, and I'm a long way from home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My muse has been awoken from it's winter sleep by a sudden influx of kudos! :O
> 
> Thanks to everyone for reading (and for your enormous patience)

Dean was rambling in his own head, his thoughts strangely muddled.

”You shouldn’t judge a book by its movie"… no wait… Movies… he still hadn’t showed the Back to the Future trilogy to Cas. The third one was the best. Why was he thinking about movies again? Oh, he was thinking about books and judging… or something. Books were nice too. He liked books. But he was cool while he liked books, like that little dude with the metal arm in that anime. He liked books AND was cool. Not nerdy, like Sammy. No he was awesome, like the little guy in the anime, and the little guy walking next to the horse. Oh that was it!

“You are like a book. Small, but stronger on the inside. Like the TARDIS”, he told the kid out loud.

For some reason, the kid just grimaced and muttered something about a fever definitely being back. But he was distracted by a distinct feeling of having mixed up his proverbs somehow. Charlie would have known what it was. She was awesome like that.

“Have you seen Charlie, kid? Red hair, and short, like, really short.” He tried to show exactly how short, but thought better of it when the world started tilting at an alarming angle.

“Stay still! You’ll fall off Coochise!” the kid ordered. “And no, I’ve not seen anyone called Charlie around here. What’s his last name?”

Dean never answered that. He was too busy looking at the inside of his eyelids.

\----

Little Joe would never be able to tell you exactly how he managed to get himself and the stranger home that day. He would tell you several stories that painted him in a good light, and made it sound all kinds of heroic when anyone asked. In reality, however, keeping a soon feverish Dean on his horse, and walking, walking, walking was mostly just exhausting.

It was well after sunset that they reached the house. Had it been anywhere else, he would have stopped to set up camp, but he knew these grounds like the back of his own hand, and with the goal so near, he decided to press on and reach a warm bed and some food. (Hop Sing would probably make him something delicious while complaining about how “boy not eat enough. Eat more, like Hoss, get big and strong!”)

But most of all, getting support from his pa and brothers was shimmering like an oasis in the horizon. Literal support too: getting the man down from the horse in one piece would be a task better suited to Hoss.

As soon as he saw the light from the house splitting the darkness he called out to his family.

“Pa! Hoss! Adam! I’m home!”

Not the wisest thing to do, perhaps, as Coochise startled, and the man fell off the horse and landed right on top of him.

Well, guess that meant Hoss had one less job to do, Joe thought with a grimace. But Jeez the man was heavy!

\---

Earlier, at the Ponderosa, activities of a rather dubious nature were taking place, expertly hidden away from Mr. Ben Cartwright’s watching eyes.

A minority of the ranch men were grumbling about how light their money purses were after losing their bets on whether or not Little Joe would be back in time. The majority, having wisely placed their bets on the young rascal being late, were moaning about how many they had to share their winnings with.

A new, more detailed, betting round was already in the making.

“I bet he is late ‘cause he found a pretty gal and plain forgot about the time”, was what Hoss bet, when he sneaked in. Adam, however, was more pragmatic.

“Or he found a pretty gal, and her pa found them. And now they’re having a nice friendly shotgun wedding.”

Other bets, from the ranch men, were of a similar sort.

“I bet he found two pretty girls, and stayed there to choose”, said Hank.

“Or he found two pretty gals, and they found out about each other, and now he’s a-hidin!” one of the younger men joked.

It was an unspoken agreement that none of the bets would include theories that were of a more severe nature. Little Joe may have been an explosion waiting to happen, but he was still well liked by most.

And those who didn’t like him still kept their mouths shut – speaking ill about the Boss’ youngest was not a good way to ensure future employment.

\---

The Boss in question had been taking increasingly frequent breaks to “stretch his legs” out on the front porch as the clock ticked away and there were no signs of neither horse nor rider. He would have to start again from scratch with the book keeping he had attempted to finish. Some other day. When little Joe was home. And grounded until he was 80.

His youngest was definitely the cause for many a gray hair on his head.

\---

Hop Sing was the only truly productive person in the household that day. He had made a dinner, easy to warm up at any moment, to go with a long tirade of complaints about how the food was already cold and the Boy was never home when he was supposed to eat!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean is making references to Fullmetal Alchemist (I am certain he has seen it) and Doctor Who.  
> I wrote his ramblings while having a pretty decent fever myself, what better way to make use of being ill, eh?


End file.
